Good morning, everyone ~
My cats make better alarm clocks than any mechanical device humans have ever created. Their hunger kicks in at predictable times, and their insistence upon being fed is better than any blaring alarm at getting my attention. Having a routine schedule can be a healthy thing. Thanks to the cats, I maintain a somewhat routine schedule. I may not be as healthy as an olympic athlete; however, this is probably as good as it gets!
My personal pain management program is just that: my unique way of managing my pain. It’s not a universal prescription. We each have to find what works best for our own brain-body/mind-spirit. What we all have in common is the fact that those four areas required attention. To train the brain, at neglect of the other three areas, is not enough to achieve overall good health. The same goes for all four areas of our being.
Not everyone agrees with that. That’s okay. Not everyone is willing to do the work of self-training. That’s okay, too. No one else can live my Life. I can’t live any Life except my own. That is a universal truth.
What I can do is teach. What I cannot do is to create a willingness to learn. My cats remind me of this at least twice a day. I say: “Wait, please.” They persist: “Feed me!” They are not willing to change the clock in their brain whenever we humans change the hands on the clocks on all our devices that govern our lives/the timing of everything we do, twice each year. I am the one in this scenario who must exercise willingness to learn a feeding schedule that matches the cats’ needs.
Similarly, each of us humans decide to be willing to self-train, or not. Part of that training involves learning — taking the time to get better acquainted with how the brain-body functions is a good beginning. Most of us take for granted that the brain-body partnership works steadily without any conscious thought. When something breaks down or fails, we feel betrayed, angry, disappointed, etc.
Relying on others’ help creates a feeling of being vulnerable, weak, helpless, a failure. When modern medical techniques/medications fail to restore us, we feel betrayed by both our brain-body and the medical communities.
That can cause our behavior toward self/others to shift into something that looks/sounds/acts nothing even close to how we perceive Love to be. Which causes a feeling of additional failure. Our pain management program becomes an invisible pile of rubble. It has not failed us; yet, it feels that way. We have not failed ourselves; yet, that’s our thoughts/feelings on the matter.
Like hungry cats, we tend to go a little feral, a little untamed at such moments. Like any wounded animal, we try to find a “cave” where we can privately tuck up, alone, waiting for healing or death to resolve the matter.
Like the wild animals that we humans have domesticated over thousands of years, we no longer can afford such “cave” time. We need one another’s help/companionship to resolve matters (or, at least get started in that direction). We are a co-dependent species … just as all life-forms are co-dependent. Whatever happens in the human world affects Mother Nature, and vice-versa. We’ve just become too busy, too distracted, too uneducated about such things to remember this.
The cats depend upon me to feed them twice each day. When I lose track of time, they are quick to remind me. It is an unwritten agreement between us that evolved when I willingly adopted them/invited them to share my home/be part of this home-tribe.
As humans who hurt/suffer, we have willingly formed a tribe focused on learning how to better manage our personal pain. We willingly learn more about our unique brain-body/mind-spirit partnership as part of that program. We form a tribe of codependent caregivers who take care in how we live despite the pain. Yet, each of us remain co-independent — alone inside ourselves, solitary in our myriad of challenges, singularly responsible for self … and collectively responsible to one another/the world around us. We are not responsible for the whole world, nor is the world responsible for or to us.
It’s a bit like having cats. These cats remind me of my responsibility both to/for them. Sometimes the world out there reminds us that we need to do something for a collective benefit. Sometimes the brain-body reminds us that our mind-spirit has been neglected for far too long. Suffering is eased when unity is restored. Just as peace is restored in this house when the cats are fed according to their internal-clock and not by a collective changing of the hands (or digits) on the clocks that rule our lives.
All of Life (even in nature) is governed by change as the seasons come-n-go, as weather patterns continually shift, as humans create a chain-reaction of events. Pain touches us on all four areas of our being. As we move forward in our self-training toward improved pain management, we will not find instant relief, spontaneous cure, or reliable prevention. The goal is simply “improved management” — which is a continual learning process.
The cats do not give up their quest for food. They are persistent (and in that, they are reliable). As a tribe of people with pain, let us remind self/one another of that good characteristic about ourselves — we too can be persistent (reliable) in our personal pain-management program … if we are willing to keep on keeping on. Self-training/self-care — it’s both a private/collective endeavor.
Stay as curious as a cat! Stay as self-caring as you are other-caring. No cure; no prevention. Yet, definitely of measureless value to one-n-all.
Gentle hugs/much love,
Marian